His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. The Mohocks. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers.
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